


HART

by Calliope (Theorium)



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Fantasy, Fish out of Water, Gen, Goblins, High Fantasy, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Inspired by the Wayward Children Series, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Sidhe, portal fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-05-02 01:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19189237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theorium/pseuds/Calliope
Summary: Extraordinary things often do not appear so.Willa Burke was a sickly child and a sickly adult, an orphan cycled slowly out of the system into a world she had never once felt she belonged in. Thrust now into the world of her birth, Willa must learn to survive in a place much more savage and unforgiving than the land she came from. Spirited away to the faerie court, the magical experience quickly turns sinister.





	1. Prologue

Fleeing, fighting, falling through branches that whipped and cut into his flanks, the stag was hunted.

Never before had the ground felt so hard, each contact of his hooves into the littered underbrush shook through his muscles and made each leap a little slower; each of his breaths were a little harder to take in.

Voices and the cries of beasts chased him in the night. He dared not look anywhere but forward, rushing towards a finish line that none had ever reached before him and never would have the chance again.

_But I am not the last,_ a voice reminded him and an image of a den nestled in a thicket seared into his mind making his heart seize with a nearly unbearable surge of agony and joy.

The dense trees began to clear and distracted by his thoughts, the stag burst into a clearing of long grasses and flickering lightning bugs.

Before him, stood a beast. The stag stopped running.

The beast had no discernible visage as it bore the mane of a great lion, the mass of a bear and the horrible and deadly fangs of a wolf. In the darkness, the golden dark brown of its fur was lost, but the stag knew the creature well by its eyes that reflected at him in the night. The stag's nostrils flared with each breath, but inside his heart was slowing. His chance was gone; his run was at an end. He took a breath and something like a sigh slipped from his body.

_I've done all I could,_ the stag thought, lifting its head tall and proud, _I've done all I could._

He stepped forward and in the shining light of the stars and fireflies, the beast could see the flowers that began to bloom along the spines of the stag's antlers.

The call of the hunt came again, horns sounding in the deep of the woods. There was no more time.

With a snarl filled with bitterness and regret, the beast leapt to meet him. It's teeth pressed easily into the stag's skin, with lips promising to soothe away the hurt as it's jaw locked and constricted.

In the quiet of the forest, the snap was deafening.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took an extended break from writing fan-fiction after I began working full time and being a student full-time about three years ago. During that time however, I began writing an original story during NaNoWriMo and on my own as well. This is it. I have a lot already pre-written (over 60k words) and none of it has been beta or really read by anyone.
> 
> There will probably be tense, grammar and spelling mistakes! I know most people don't have much of an interest in original stories, but well-- here it is anyway.

The sound of wood hitting wood echoed with a loud “clack” down the small hallway. The burst of noise was followed by an outburst of squawking as the crow flew from where it had been perched towards the ceiling, fruitlessly beating its wings against the white walls.

Willa ducked, groaning loudly as she tried to avoid the frantic creature. Her too-big sweater fell off her shoulder, baring fair freckled skin. A stack of books, most worn or very old fell over when her heel hit them.

The bird settled once more on top of the railing within a small cutout in the far wall of Willa's room that served as a closet. It's clawed feet clicked against the metal as it turned its head to stare at her.

“You little shit.” she swore under her breath, gripping and wringing her hands, covered in freckles like the rest of her, on her broom pole.

The bird had nothing to say in its defense.

“What is going on in there?!” Amber said loudly from the hall, gingerly opening the door a crack and poking her redhead in. She was wearing shorts, high enough to show the pale white halo of untanned skin at the top of her bronzed thighs. Willa threw her arm out, waving it in warning so hard it tousled her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“No, no! You'll let it out!”

“ _It_?” Amber pushed the door open far enough to shimmy through and then closed it quickly behind her. She followed Willa's eyes to the shiny black bird currently using its beak to pick at the strap of a tank top hanging in the closet.

“You have _got_ to be joking. How did it even get in here?”

Willa sighed, throwing the broom pole aside and grabbing her hair brush from atop one of the many boxes that served as her “furniture”. 

“It broke through the screening! Scared the living crap out of me.” she said, running the brush roughly through her hair to try and tame the thick wavy mass into something acceptable. She nudged aside her books with the kind of disregard that would make some bibliophiles cringe. Willa had no patience for perfect unbroken in spines and unwrinkled dust jackets. Books were meant to be loved and every one of the numerous volumes strewn about her room were definitely loved.

Amber frowned as she picked up the broom from where Willa had tossed it and slowly reached it out to poke at the bird. It cawed _loudly_ and jumped away.

“Just-- just leave the stupid thing.” Willa said, her voice a sigh. She changed quickly from her sweater and shorts into a slightly nicer black t-shirt and shorts. She tied her hair back as she kicked over her blanket, searching for her work tennis shoes.

Amber gave the bird one last sidelong glare before setting the broom against the wall. She turned her attention to Willa, batting her hands away from her hair.

“Let me. You're going to need to braid this mess if you want to keep it out of your way.”  
Willa sighed again, but surrendered over her brush. Amber's fingers worked quickly, parting her hair into three sections and pulling them into a french braid. Amber had barely gotten two rows finished before she stopped and Willa found her head abruptly forced back.

“What the hell...” Amber said, holding the braid in one hand as her other poked and pushed Willa's hair apart to look presumably at her scalp. She pressed a fingertip to a spot right above Willa's temple and Willa could not help but whine loudly as the skin throbbed.

“... okay. Okay, don't freak.”

“What? What is it? Is it a tic?!”

“No-- it's just a rash. Christ, Wil, are you using bar soap on your head again?”

“No!”

Willa reached to touch the spot, noticing now that it felt similarly sensitive on the other side.

“I can hide it. Don't freak.” Amber quickly continued to braid her hair, but already Willa could feel anxiety bubbling up beneath her ribs and making her breath come faster.

“Just don't freak.” Amber continued on a soft mantra, finishing the braid and tying it secure. She kissed the top of Willa's head and when the other girl turned and buried into her, Amber was happy to return the hug.

“It's been a weird morning.” Willa said, voice strained and pitiful. Amber sighed and rubbed her back. She’d taken care of Willa since they were children, the other girl always so frail hearted and small. Amber had been older, wiser, longer in foster care than Willa and more versed in the world. Willa had lived comfortably under the older girls wings, the only sister she’d ever known.

“Don't worry about the stupid bird. I'll get him. When you get home we'll go get some fancy ass deep conditioner and some nail polish and just-- just splurge all out!”

Willa laughed, a pathetic short thing. When she pulled back she rubbed at her eyes, knowing full well her face would be a blotchy mess.

“Nail polish and conditioner? Such luxuries. How will we live? What will we eat?”

Amber laughed and tugged the lobe of Willa's ear chidingly.

“Get out of here, you smart ass. You're going to be late.”

The crow squawked, as if in agreement.

–-

Willa was late and spent most of the day trying to keep her head down and out of her manager’s way.

On her break she examined the rash, finding that it was on both sides of her head. A circle of irritated red skin was visible if she pushed her hair apart and worst of all, it had started to itch. Her skin flaked if she scratched at it, so Willa did her best to try and resist the urge. After her shift was over, she walked back towards the apartment, ankles and arches sore from a day of standing and walking.

She missed her job as a part-time library page, but waitressing at “Rosie's Place” surprisingly earned her just enough more in tips that it was worth the change... financially at least. She missed the hours spent hiding in stacks of books with no one to force smiles for or to talk to.

She was not even in school this semester, which meant even less social interaction, but now that she had completed every prerequisite it was time to choose a major… and honestly, Willa had no idea how to even begin achieving what she wanted-- or what she even wanted.

She had considered library sciences mostly, finding something very mysterious and interesting around the title _Archivist_. Willa loved her books, loved to sit among them and dreamed one day she’d maybe have a shelf even to put them on... but the idea of all the years needed to achieve a bachelor’s let alone the master's degree needed gave her pause. Meanwhile, Amber worked part time at Rosie's and kept up with her classes and TA'd for one of her professors. If anyone was bringing home the metaphorical bacon, it was not Willa. Willa was willing to suffer swollen ankles and social interaction if it helped to pull her own weight. 

Each trip back to the apartment however, was a reward in itself as Willa made her customary stop at the garden. Someone years ago had seen fit to plant a garden between two brownstone buildings. Gated with old iron bars overgrown with thick vines, the door was never locked and Willa often liked to come and sit for awhile before continuing home.

As it was getting colder, the sky got darker sooner and by the time her shift was done the only light came from the street lamps. Inside the garden, it was sometimes even darker, but Willa did not mind it. She opened the gate and took her place on a small wooden bench a ways towards the back. The bench was sheltered from prying eyes on both sides by the vined gates, offering her a rare feeling of being truly alone. She scooched down so she could look up at the hazy sky, the bench rough and cold on the back of her thighs. Light pollution prevented any star gazing, but Willa found she liked the quiet and the strange but pleasant sensation of loneliness in the privacy of the garden. 

Willa let her eyes close, tuning in on the rustle of the plants and the faint chirp of insects. Above it all, was of course the sound of the city, Chicago, to be exact, but if she let her mind go the sound of the small patch of nature would pull to the forefront and for a moment Willa felt transported to another place.

The feeling vanished in a sudden flutter of feathers. Willa jolted upright, the back of her knees scraping on the bench. On a power line overhead, the crow watched her. It did not make another sound, but despite this, the spell was broken. Willa stood up and quickly navigated through the garden back to the gate. Her heart had quickened and the top of her head suddenly itched furiously.

She lifted her hand to rake at her scalp, but stopped when she caught sight of something glittering ahead.

A trick of light, or a shadow, that is what she thought it must be. Truly though, no trick of light explained this sight as the gate door before her shimmered and warped.

The blurring stopped after a moment and only then did Willa push the outside gate open and hurry onto the sidewalk, rubbing her eyes tiredly. The last thing I need, she thought, is to have to get glasses.

The crow watched her until she was far from view and then, it took flight.  
–  
Deep conditioning night, despite seemingly doing little to alleviate her rash, was worth the wait. Though their rooms were more akin to closets, the bathroom in the narrow apartment had a beautiful free standing claw foot tub. It was rust stained, but clean and big enough to fit both girls comfortably. Currently though, Amber sat perched on the toilet lid, which with the size of the bathroom put it almost directly behind the tub. Her hands were tangled in Willa's blonde hair, soothing layers upon layers of conditioner. Willa held a paper book copy of Annihilation aloft, the pages wet where her thumb rested.

The conditioner was not too fancy, but it smelled like coconut. The bath was filled with bubbles, aided on by the addition of a few drops of dish soap. Willa giggled, gathering bubbles up in her hands and blowing them.

“Save some for me.” Amber said, reaching down into the tub to flick water at Willa. Satisfied she had applied generous enough amounts of the conditioner, Amber slipped off her towel and into the tub on the opposite end of Willa, moving her slender legs to the side to allow Willa more room. Amber had always been thin and tall, while Willa had settled somewhere in the middle when she finally filled out. Willa held the book with one hand and tucked her other arm around herself, hiding the soft pouch of fat on her tummy self-consciously until she remembered this was _Amber_. They'd been taking baths together since Willa was four and Amber eight, taken in by the same foster family. It was the one time of the day they could be alone back then, crammed in a house with three other kids. Willa had not had her own room even until they had moved into this newest “apartment”. The few years they had spent apart after Amber phased out and Willa moved to other foster homes had been unbearable. Though they shared no blood, they shared a bond that stood in as the only family Willa had ever known, or that Amber had left.

“How did the children fair beneath your scrutiny?” Willa said, eliciting a dark chuckle from Amber. 

“Their term papers are in. I brought a stack home to keep grading. So far? I fear for the poor fools who've skipped.”

Amber applied layers of the conditioner to her own red hair and then using a hair tie from her wrist and piling it up in a thick bun. Her brown roots were starting to show.

“Work?”

“Fine. No one asked, like you said. One customer told me my hat was cute.”

Willa hesitated to tell Amber about the garden, but after a moment she continued.

“I see the intruder is gone.”

Amber sighed heavily and shoved down into the water, sending a splash to the floor.

“I caught him in a sheet and threw him out the front door. The little monster shit everywhere.”

Willa barked a laugh, “I think... I think I saw it again.”

Amber raised a thin eyebrow.

“But I wasn't sure. I was at the garden and I swore I heard it squawking at me again. Isn't it weird? Like I thought it was a crow but-- it isn't the right shape, I think it might be a raven.”

“Nevermore?”

Willa scoffed.

“A rap' tap tappin?”

“No one likes a smart-ass.” Willa said, pushing bubbles at her.

“Yeah, but someone has to do it.” Amber closed her eyes, settling back comfortably, “So should I be concerned about coming home to find you prying up the floorboards?”

“More concerned about me putting you under them!”

When they both were sufficiently conditioned and then dried and pajama'd, they moved into Willa's room. Amber sat on a pillow on the floor with the other girl's feet in her lap as she painted Willa’s toes. Willa paused reading to watch.

“Red?” she asked, skeptical of the choice.

“The color of dangerous ladies.” Amber said with certainty.

Willa hummed skeptically, looking back to her book.

“Hey...” Amber said, tilting her head back to look at her.

“You feel better?”

Willa smiled and nodded.

Amber blew on Willa's nails and then untangling herself from her got up.

“Papers to grade.” she muttered, “If you need anything, let me know.”

\--

The next day was no less uncomfortable, the rash on Willa’s head more visible. Her manager had questioned the presence of her hat and an upset customer had managed to send the other girl into almost a full on panic attack. 

Feeling already a bit of a wobble in the balance of her tray, she readjusted to take a cleared setting to the back. Something caught her attention from the corner of her eye and the urge to ignore it hit her strong enough that Willa questioned-- why did she not want to look? So she did and spotted sitting in the window sill the raven. The sound of the diner faded, replaced by ringing as she stared at the bird. It opened its beak and shrieked and somehow it was as if the raven were inched from her ear. Willa started, the sound of the diner flooding back. She misjudged the balance on a tray and in a second it tilted and sent three plates and a set of glasses to the floor, shattering almost everything. Willa felt the telltale tightness in her chest that warned her of a coming asthma episode. Trying her best to keep her composure, she rushed back to get a broom and tray. Amber was working her shift that morning and passed Willa, carrying both.

“I got it. Head back.” Amber said, voice low. She was all smiles and cheer as she happily said aloud, “Oopsie! Bit of a tumble!” 

The silenced diner began to rouse again, some customers laughing and cheerfully chatting with Amber as she picked up the shards of plates. One customer even stood to try and assist her. That was the last Willa saw before she ducked back into the kitchen, pulling the red inhaler from her pocket and clearing her lungs before taking one puff. A second puff eased the tightness, the thickness in her throat soothing and her airway opening.

Still, Willa felt weak, not quite able to get a full deep breath. Amber came back with a dust tray full of broken glass and ceramic, dumping into a bin.

“You alright, kid?” she said, placing her hand on Willa’s upper back and rubbing.

“Yeah-- just… stupid. Didn’t get the balance.”

“You’ve dropped hundreds of glasses, Wil, but never had an episode over it.”

Willa sighed.

“I’m…. not feeling good, I guess.”

Amber hummed, her brow furrowing. 

“I’ll be okay.” she said.

“The tableware on the other hand….” Amber trailed off, smirking. Willa gave a faint laugh, like a puff of air and shook her head before she headed back onto the floor.

\--

Amber’s shift ended sometime after the lunch rush and then she was off to her classes. Willa finished up her own shift into the night without too much trouble and began her treasured walk home. The temperature was dropping at night even more, it felt. Summer was ending and it was that time of the year where things started to feel more gloomy, more sad, for no real discernible reason. Willa had always gotten seasonal blues.

The garden was coming up, but a sound caused her to pause, unmoving. Willa could hear the sound of birds, chattering in the distance. As she came upon the garden, it grew even louder. The cool touch of it’s iron gate was soothing against Willa’s hands, but still she hesitated, hearing again the strange cries of animals. 

That wasn’t right. Songbirds this late into the evening? Willa pushed open the gate and found the garden was not empty. Everywhere, perched on bushes and the bench and among the flowers were birds, both morning and evening. At her entrance all fell silent and turned to look at her. Sitting among the birds were raccoons, the small furred bodies of mice and in one corner the glittering eyes of at least a dozen house cats. A few stray dogs inched forward, ears perked forward.

Willa stared into the garden and then, without a word, closed the gate, paused and reopened it.

Yes, the animals were still there and still silently gazing at her. An opossum dotted with babies even took that moment to appear, clamoring over the other gate on the far end.

In the silence, only the purring of the cats was audible. Behind Willa, a car passed, it’s lights illuminating the garden and all those present. It was as if, in that moment, the presence of something so human had broken the spell. The birds took flight, disappearing up into the sky as the other animals scurried away and clamored out of view. The stray dogs rushed passed Willa, exiting out onto the street.

Within seconds, the assembly was disbanded.

Quietly, Willa closed the gate and began heading back home, her lungs tight and her skin pale. 

She decided halfway up the stairs to her apartment, that perhaps it would be best not to mention the event to Amber.

–-

Willa wasn't sure when she fell asleep, only that she had fallen upon her bed the moment she took off her shoes, but now she was awake. Something tapped at her window-- or maybe it didn't, she couldn't be sure-- until it tapped again. The sound was hard and loud this time, startling a gasp from her.

The lights were off in her room, signaling that Amber had come to check on her at some point when she got home before heading to bed herself. The uncomfortable sensation of a book cramped underneath her stomach became apparent to Willa. She pulled the paperback free only to be startled by another quick session of taps. Once the haze of sleep had begun to clear, Willa knew too well what the sound was. Feeling a rush of anger, she got up and went to the window, opening the blinds.

The raven squawked angrily, fluttering away from the window, but managing to stay aloft right in front of it. The screen was still ripped from where it had attempted to come in last time, and now it was in the process of sticking its head in the tear and trying to work its way in-between the screen and glass pane.

Willa smacked the glass with a shout, which did nothing but cause the raven to stop and stare at her indignantly. The bird seemed to be settled upon retreating, but when it began to pull free, panicked as it remained in place.

The stupid thing was stuck.

“You only have yourself to blame.” Willa said, quietly, turning away to go sit on her futon.

She expected the raven to flap and cry, but instead it set its feet on the edge of the windowsill and stared at her through the glass. Willa felt an unexpected swell of shame and within moments was up and opening the window.

The raven became more animated then, popping its head free from the screen and flapping away to perch on a power line. Willa made an indignant sound, crossing her arms.

“You sneak!” 

The bird fluffed up its feathers and then shook them smooth again. It squawked and alighted towards the window, turned, and landed back on the power line. It repeated the motion, then went a bit further.

When Willa moved from the window, it returned once more and repeated the same pattern. No amount of rationalizing would have ever made that behavior normal. 

“You... want me to go with you?”

The raven nodded.

Willa felt her stomach churn and drop, anxiety making her blood warm.

She shoved the window closed, which the raven tilted its head curiously at. Willa checked the time: 2:30am. She would need to be awake by 8... so it wasn't as if there was not time for her to put on her shoes and go traipsing about down a dark city street following a seemingly sentient bird.

“This is insane.”

The bird rapped at the window.

Something told her to grab her shoes.


	3. Chapter 3

Outside the air was wet with mist, the chill of autumn still moving onto the morning even though there were still two weeks left of summer. Most of the plants were still green, only the barest trace of yellows and reds beginning to tinge the tips of leaves. Overhead, the raven circled, waiting on her slow legs to catch up with its wing beats.

It was hardly a surprise when the raven led her to the garden, settling itself on her bench as she opened the gate and closed it behind her. None of the animals from before were present, in fact there seemed to be no evidence they were there at all only hours before.

“Okay,” she said, “What now?”

The raven alighted and took off towards her. She stepped back, but quickly the raven circled around her several times and then broke off to fly directly into the gate on the other side of the garden. Willa tried to cry out, to warn it-- but found the bird had disappeared into a forest. Within the gate, was an opening, glittering and moving like an image in water.

“I'm losing it. I've cracked. It's malaria. It's Zika. I have a virus.” Willa said, voice flat, but yet her feet moved forward.  
Something within her pulled to that opening, as if the very blood in her veins was what was being drawn out, but unable to escape was forcing her forward.

Willa Burke passed through the portal, and did not once look back.

–-

Inside, the world had become a burst of color. Everything Willa had ever seen before was nothing compared to the greens of the trees and moss or to the blue of the sky above her. It nearly hurt her eyes to look at, but when she turned down to shade her face away she caught sight of her clothes. In this place, they looked dull and lackluster, as if someone had turned down the saturation, but beneath that her skin was luminous and bright. Her freckles stood out darkly against the milky smooth color her skin had taken on, the pink undertone healthy rather than appearing washed out. She touched a strand of her hair, pulling it forward as far as she could and saw that it too had become such a vibrant gold, it was as if it were not her hair or her body at all.

Above, the raven watched her.

Looking further down, Willa saw flowers had sprung up around her ankles of every possible shade from yellow to the softest lavender. She stepped back to kneel down and see them closer, but found the moment her foot left the spot, the flowers died, turning back to brown grass before reclaiming its luster, the grass returned to green.

Standing back up, Willa turned and walked backwards, noting that when she placed her heel down the flowers began to sprout and were flourishing by the time she stood flat. When she lifted her heel to walk out of the spot, they began to die. She laughed, a high giddy sound of near disbelief. Turning her head up, she saw the raven, who looked now to be made of not only black but shades of dark beautiful blue. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words fell into a cry as pain ripped over the top of her head.

Willa fell to her knees at the feeling, hands clutching her head. Beneath her palms, she felt two solid bumps that were growing larger and larger. Terror gripped her heart like a vice, but within a moment-- the pain was gone and the bumps beneath her hand were not itchy and hot, but soft and velvety beneath her touch. They stuck out clearly from beneath her hair at least an inch tall.  
Gasping for breath, she stood up on shaky legs and stared up at the raven.

“What's happening to me?!” 

The trees themselves seemed to tremor at her panic and ahead she felt a sudden rush of wind. The raven shrieked and flew at her, holding in front of her face and beating its wings wildly. It whipped around her and back towards where she came. The entrance was closing.

Willa did not need further explanation as she broke into a run towards the way out. The ground seemed to be becoming softer as she ran, muddier and thick. The brown sludge clung to her feet and sucked her shoes off, but Willa continued to run. The entrance was too small, too narrow, but Willa shoved through, barely able to get her leg out by the time it closed, turning back into the garden gate.

Confronted with the outside side, Willa could barely see it felt so black and dull. Her eyes began to adjust and the coldness of the ground on her now bare feet helped to anchor her back to reality.

The raven was nowhere to be seen.

Willa's hands reached up to the top of her head... and found the soft velvet bumps still in place. Her breathing picked up, still panicked and short. Quickly she left the garden, all too aware of how she was now walking alone at night, mud up to her knees and barefoot.  
She crept as quietly as she could into the apartment and up the stairs. Amber's light was out. Willa washed her legs in the bath silently, avoiding looking in the mirror. When she did finally stand in front of it, she had to take several moments to bring herself to look up at the top of her head.

Her hair seemed dull and flat, her skin sallow with dark circles under her eyes. She felt tired and each breath felt like a labor to take in. At the top of her head though, set two buds coated in soft brown fur.

Her eyes vacant and exhausted, Willa simply turned off the lights and headed to bed, collapsing on the futon. She felt heavy and scared, but most of all she felt a strange terrible ache to go back.

–-

This time, when the window rapped, it was followed by a loud cracking as the wood gave way around the pane of glass and sent it toppling down a story to the ground below. The shatter woke Willa and Amber, as she heard the other girl shout a profanity and the sudden sound of her feet in the hallway.

The door beat against its frame, but would not open. Willa did not remember locking it, but every thought in her mind froze as she looked upon the three darkly hooded figures who now crowded into her room. The whole wall had been removed to allow them entrance, the cold early morning wind whipping into the small space.

A scream boiled in the back of her throat, but was silence with a wave of one of their gloved hands. She couldn't speak, she could barely move.

Amber called her name, the door was immovable, but still the other girl desperately tried to push it open.

Willa knew there was nothing to stop them from taking her and so did they. One figure came near her and with gentle but strong hands, lifted her up from her futon. Some part of the spell they had placed on her seemed to shake free, her nostrils flaring as she kicked out and hit one figure squarely in the chest. The figure gasped, coughed, but regained themselves quickly. The cloaked being who held her laughed and then drew their hand over her face, making the world go dark.

Moments later, the apartment was silent, the wall replaced and Amber asleep again in her room. Time simply reversed... making it as if Willa had never existed to be plucked out at all.

–-

Glimpses of the street lights flickered behind her eyelids. The chill of the outside air had returned, but the stranger was warm and held her as if she weighed nothing. She heard the familiar creak of the garden gate and groaned out a quiet protest.

“Quickly.” a male voice said, “It will not hold long.”

Willa tiredly watched as the third figure who had passively laid witness to the others actions drew their hand in the air as if she wear stirring water, the space turning and turning and opening way to the forest again.

It was dusk now in the forest and when they passed through, Willa felt herself waking. Energy returned to her limbs and where her lungs once always rasped, they felt full and strong. She stirred and the woman holding her drew her hand across her face. She felt the need to sleep, but quickly warded it off. She laughed and did the motion again and this time she saw a faint dark indigo glow come from the woman’s hands as Willa passed into darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Waking up was sudden and unnatural, not like the groggy slow awakening from sleep, but more as if Willa's mind had simply been shrouded by a curtain that was then abruptly shoved back.  
  
It was dawn. The light from the window displayed an intricately decorated bedroom with beautifully carved furniture. A tree seemingly grew up one corner, its trunk disappearing through the floor and the ceiling above. She was laying in a four poster bed, the curtains made of a thin silk that was currently tied back to each post. She had been changed, her clothes replaced with a thin shift. The fabric was silky and a shade of cream that Willa both recognized and didn't. 

Everything was so vibrant and bright, her eyes throbbed and stung from the overwhelming images. Pushing aside the thick blanket that covered her, Willa set her feet on the wooden floor. The red polish on her toes had chipped and for some reason this was almost enough to make her burst into tears. Was this what madness felt like? The whole world had suddenly tilted so harshly and everything felt like a chaotic mess of images and events. Her life had always been so quiet, so dull and now in the space of a few hours the whole of it had been nothing but loud unimaginable chaos.

Willa took several deep breaths and stood. She searched for her clothes, but found nothing but a chemise dress laid out over a chair. The dress was intricately patterned with lines of flowers both tiny and larger, with silk roses of blue and pink sewn into the two pleats at the front. There was embroidery of leaves around each flower. With nothing else available, Willa took the dress and pulled it over her head. It fit perfectly and flattered her figure with the dropped waist and layers of fabric that made the skirt seem more full... as if someone had tailored it specifically for her. The thought would have been more troubling were her head not full enough of troubles.

There was a piece beneath the dress that appeared to be a train that would fasten to the straps on her shoulders, but why anyone would think this practical was beyond her. There were no shoes, only two gold anklets with tiny gold bells laid out on the dresser. There was no sense in alerting anyone to her presence, so she left the trail and jewelry behind. 

Quietly, carefully, she opened the dark wooden door and stepped into the hallway of what appeared to be a grand mansion. The halls had the appearance of abandonment, with leaves fallen like an autumn underbrush on the floor and large trees having burst their way through the wood and grown up corners, their tops disappearing through holes and invisible from within the house. There was a banister that looked down onto a grand foyer and a polished wooden staircase covered with scattered leaves. The walls of the hallway were made up of panels that slide open to a balcony that overlooked the garden outside. As soon as she walked into view of the sunlight, a loud chorus of songbirds burst forward like the beginning of a symphony.

Willa barely made it to this opening when the raven flew in with a loud cry, landing on the banister railing. Willa muffled a scream into her fist, half turning to run before finding courage in her anger and instead using the momentum to round back towards the bird with fury.

“What did you do?! Why did you bring me here?!” she said, voice a harsh whisper.

The raven tilted its head and then swooped forward, enlarging and paling as it transformed into a woman. Willa could only croak faintly as the “raven” stood before her. She was naked, her skin the color of dark honey. Her hair flowed down her back in waves of chestnut, but her eyes were a striking impossible shade of pale green.

“I would have thought black.” Willa said, realizing the strangeness of the observation. The woman rose an eyebrow.

“Uh-- oh. Oh dear. Um.” 

Willa turned her eyes up and walked out onto the balcony and away. The woman followed her, looking perplexed. They moved into Willa's line of sight again and the other girl flushed bright pink.

“Heir.” the supposed-woman said, their voice carrying a light airy accent. It was not quite British, not quite Irish, but decidedly from the Isles.

“Excuse me?!”

“My name is Heir. It is nice to meet y-”

“Could you put some clothes on before starting the pleasantries?!” Willa said, barely finishing the statement before lines of green silk began to form around the woman, covering them in a tunic that tucked into soft brown breeches topped with high boots. Willa became painfully aware she was gaping.

Heir smiled at the corner of their mouth.

“Did you sleep well?”

Willa shook her head, “No. No, stop that. You don't get to act like this is-- normal. This isn't normal.”

“I am being polite.”

“Yeah? Well stop it and take me HOME.”

Heir frowned at this and averted their eyes. Outside, the birds were chirping at increasingly loud volumes. With a huff, Willa turned on her heel and threw open one of the panels. Stepping onto the balcony, she braced her arms and shouted,

“BE QUIET.”

The birdsong silenced immediately-- unnaturally immediately.

“... you could have asked them politely.” Heir said with a disapproving tone.

“Asked?!” Willa said, further outrage cut short by a sudden and intense pain on her head. She moaned, lifting her hand to press her palm to the source of the pain. The buds were still hard and textured like velvet under her palm, but there was more to them now. She moved her hand up further and found the bumps extended up from her head at least several inches, thick and splitting into two knobs.

Heir registered the panic blooming in the girl's eyes and immediately stepped forward, taking her wrists in their hands.

“You will be alright. Breathe, Willa. It is the effect.”

“The-- the effect?” Willa wheezed, reaching for her inhaler and then remembering it still sitting on top of a box at her apartment. Heir let go of one of her arms to produce a small tin which inside had leaves. Heir took a few and crushed them, rubbing them against Willa's wrists in slow motions.

The air became heavy with the smell of mint, the scent searing through her nostrils and making her lungs feel more open and full once again.

“You struggled in your sleep to breathe... this will help now too. You will get use to it. Your body has spent so long in their world, it has forgotten how to exist in it's home.”

Willa shook her head, feeling the strength flooding out of her body and leaving her shaking and faint.

“Stop talking. Just stop talking! Nothing you say... makes any sense. Is this a cult? Where are we? Idaho?”

Heir gave a fleeting smile, which they quickly hid.

“This is the Sidhe. It is a separate realm that exists parallel to the realm you were left in.”

If Willa was pale before, now she was ashen. She pulled her hands away from the bird woman and moved back inside.

“No. No this is some Chronicles of fucking Narnia bullshit and it is NOT real.”

“Willa-- you are not of that world.”

“I think I asked you to stop talking.”

“We do not know why or who, but you were taken--”

“Stop!!” Willa managed to shriek, but was cut off by movement in the corner of her eye.

A door in the hallway opened abruptly and within its frame, an Indian woman leaned looking more than a little bit annoyed with the noise. Her sari was loosely tied, as if she had only quickly draped it over herself before coming out.

“Your magic is waning, Heir. She should be too tired to be so noisy.”

She was an older woman, that was sure, appearing to be nearing forty with long coarse black hair that she wore in a loose braid down to her waist. Her sari was orange and red, complementing the umber color of her skin. Her accent was barely present, but Willa recognized it immediately as Indian.

“Good morning, Sala.” a distinctly masculine voice said. Willa turned her attention back to Heir and found in place of the woman was a man, still honey skinned but with short cropped wavy hair.  
“Oh that's hardly necessary, Heir. Your father isn’t here.” Sala said, slipping her sari up over her shoulders and approaching Willa.

She stumbled back from the woman and nearly doubled forward as a new bout of pain sprung over her head.

“Ah yes--” Sala said, watching Willa with pity as the girl grabbed at the protrusions.  
“-- only a few hours, so soon.... she'll be a sixteen pointer. Just like her father.” 

Sala covered her hands over Willa's and an unnatural warmth washed over her, reaching through her skin and down on her scalp and further until she was warmed to her toes.

Just like that, Willa felt the pain vanish. 

Heir, who now seemed to be a man and not a woman, hung back as Sala pulled Willa up to her feet.

“You have questions?”

Willa could only nod, her eyes feeling full and sore.

“I will answer all of them. Come with me and we will get you something to eat. You needn't worry about those silly tales of fairy food-- you're one of us, Willa. You are a fae.”

–-

Sala had led them into a sitting room as elegantly furnished and strange as the rest of the house. The whole building seemed to be a living tree, with branches and trunks worked into the walls and roots moving across the floors. The ceiling had broken apart in the middle, the trees freely growing up and creating a canopy of leaves. The air smelt clean and fresh here, like after a rainstorm, but without the damp chill. Dust Motes sparkled in the rays of sunlight, heavy with pollen or some other particles unidentifiable to Willa.

She sat, on soft plush pillows on an equally soft rug. Everything was warm colored and Sala seemed to blend easily into the scheme. She lounged on the pillows, a small stone stove sat in a hole cut out into the rug, a tea pot simmering on top of the warm cylinder.

Heir had joined them, their clothes had changed to fit their most recent form. Willa eyed Heir with disdain, mostly brought on by the knowledge it was them who had lead her here in this first place. She felt tricked; she felt like she was going mad.

“So,” Willa said, drawing Heir's lovely pale green eyes to her face, “You're a man.”

“No.” Heir said simply.

“... you're a woman?”

“No.” Heir said again, smiling. Sala smiled to, watching the pair now with more interest.

“I'm sorry-- then..... What...”

“I can transform into a bird, and you're more concerned over what is theoretically between my thighs?”

Willa stammered, her cheeks reddening as she lost her words. Heir laughed then, the sound so pleasant it only made her cheeks redder.

“I prefer the form I presented to you first. The raven. ...everything else is secondary.”

Heir paused, as if they mentally had to correct themselves before speaking.

“Heir.” Sala said, her tone alone enough to make Heir hide their smile and slowly shift and morph back into a woman and then back into a man. Willa watched hypnotised as each individual stubble hair disappeared and then reappeared on their shifting jaw.

“Heir is a beast-shifter, one of only two of them. I believe they have been referred to as púca before.”

“So he-- I mean she-- “

“”They” is fine,” Heir stated simply, “You may adjust to suit my current form if you’d like as well.”

That sounded more true than their original statement of preferring their raven form. Willa could almost begin to believe she was in another realm now with how casually both of these people discussed something so wildly controversial back home.

“Questions!” Sala said, cutting off any further investigation of Heir's abilities.

“Where--”

“The Sidhe. There are other realms, but our two exist like a piece of parchment. A front and a back. We mirror and sometimes, when the ink of history is very thick, events bleed through.”

Willa gaped. Sala sighed.

“We are in Ireland. Or rather, if we were in the mortal realm, where Ireland resides. Here it is a bit... more wild. As it once was.”

“I am on a different Earth?”

“For lack of a better explanation, yes. Though we came first, before the schism-- but that is a history lesson for another day. More questions?”

“What is happening to me?” Willa said, voice breaking. She felt her eyes filling again. Heir instinctively pulled nearer. It did nothing to ease the presence of heartsickness for Amber.

Amber, who had no idea where she was or what had happened and who was probably out of her mind with worry. That thought caused some tears to overflow silently down Willa's cheeks.  
The pot on the coals whistled, and Sala poured a steaming cup of tea that smelled like jasmine, but spicy at the same time. She offered a cup to Willa, who was at least grateful for the soothing warmth between her hands.

“You are blossoming. The mortal world was like a chrysalis, dark and confining and holding you, the real you, in. Now it is free.”

“The real me?” Willa repeated, becoming far too aware of the new additions to her scalp.

“You are a Golden Hart. The last. When you stepped into our world, it sent tremors of your arrival. Nature obeys you. It is your willing servant. It is why our dear Heir here was drawn out to you. Something happened there in the mortal realm-- what was it?”

Willa could only think of one thing.

“These-- uh, my “antlers”. I think they... I think they started coming out back home.”  
Sala's eyes sparkled, marveled.

“So even in their world the truth could not be contained. You are coming of age, Willa. As a Hart, you will grow antlers and your command over nature will become more powerful.”

Willa was reminded of the birds.

Sala drank her tea deeply.

“You... mentioned my father.” Willa began, her voice hesitant and small.

“Of course. Your father was known as Oisin to all, but to those close to him, his true name was Alwyn.”

At the mention of “Oisin”, Willa felt nothing, but the moment the second name was spoken she felt as if the air around them had become more substantial-- as if laden with some deep purpose. The light that came in seemed to almost dim and then once again it illuminated the small space and the birds softly sang once more.

“Names are powerful. To know someone's true name is to know them. It is the most guarded secret of every fae.”

Willa was almost afraid to ask further.

“... is he--”

“Alive? No. I am sorry, Willa. He died shortly after you were born.”

“My mother?”

Sala shrugged, “An unknown.”

The light dimmed again and a wind picked up suddenly from the outside, chilling them all as it blew across the floor.

Heir sat up, looking at Sala with urgency.

“They are coming.”

Sala sighed.

Willa set down the cup so quickly it spilt.

“Who is coming?”

“I was hoping we'd have more time--”

“Who is coming?!”

“Willa,” Sala reached out, taking Willa's hands in her unnaturally hot ones, “I am sorry I did not have time to tell you this. There are things not even I can do; there are things I can not prevent.”  
Willa's breath frosted in front of her and steam lifted off of Sala's body in soft waves.

“Who. Is. Coming?” Will asked again, voice as cold as the room.

“Your welcome party.” Sala said, voice tinged with disgust.

And before Sala could say more, Willa felt herself be ripped from her hands, flying abruptly out through the large opening in the roof and out into the free air. Her stomach dropped and her blood felt as if it had crystallized in her veins.

Then it was over.


	5. Chapter 5

Willa stood, now adorned with the jewelry and train that had been left out for her before. It appeared as though it had become night in a mere second, the halls dark and illuminated only by candles. Still, Willa could see the room was made of beautiful blue black marble inlaid with silver. The doors before her were large and from within she could hear music.

The doors opened and Willa was standing before a vast ballroom. Food was laid out on tables in elegant displays. On one table there was cooked peacock and pheasant and ducks, a roasted pig stuffed with vegetables and earthy smelling apples and small roasted quails. On another were bowls of beautiful golden potatoes, tomatoes and greens and other strange fruits and vegetables Willa had never seen.

In the middle, they danced. Lithe, strong, fair, dark-- one woman had skin with of a soft blue and hair like melted silver. The strange beings all stopped their dance to look at Willa, who had caught a glimpse of herself in a nearby pillar, so shining and silver she could see herself perfectly. 

She looked like one of them. Her skin glowed, beautiful and healthy and her hair was lush and golden. Where the strands once had been wavy and unmanageable, they now were thick and lustrous.

Atop her head, were the two antlers, just beginning to bud. The velvety covered pedicles had flowers budding around them now to match her dress.

It took her all of a minute to remember to be outraged.

“You can't just do this to people!!” she shouted, voice echoing. The orchestra stopped playing.  
“One minute I'm in my bed-- the next I'm in another bed, that is not mine, and then I'm sitting having tea and then someone decides hey? You know what would be great? Let's grab her and fling her through the SKY and drop her, without shoes! Without shoes, everyone! In the middle of a freaking ball.”

Willa gestured wildly, opening her arms toward the crowd as if asking their agreement.

“I mean-- this is pretty weird, right? This is pretty fuckin' sudden.”

A small clamor of gasps came up at her vulgarity, but other then that no one spoke.  
A laugh rose up from the crowd, warm and deep. 

“I would expect no less of an entrance from Oisin's child.” a man said, his accented baritone cutting across the ballroom with ease. He stepped forward, golden skinned and black haired. He had a very impressive beard as dark as his hair and eyes that were pale green. He wore a suit that seemed fitting for a 17th century baron.

The resemblance was too striking to be a coincidence. 

The King of Beasts bowed deeply before Willa and held out his hand. It took a moment for her to realize she was meant to place hers in his, but she did so tentatively.

He kissed the top of her hand and Willa felt a strange sensation run up from her arm and down her spine, like goosebumps-- but more pleasant.

“I am the King of Beasts and High Lord of the Seelie Court. You may call me, Ren. Any child of Oisin is welcome to that right.”

It was not a true name, Willa could tell by the way the air did not become heavy. He clasped her hand between his two big ones.

“My dear... we have been searching for you for a long time.”

“I... I don't understand. Sala--”

“You were stolen, child. On the eve of your father's death, someone stole you and abandoned you in the mortal realm.”

Willa tried to take her hands back, but found she was held fast. Something in Ren’s gaze held her eyes to him and she found she could not look away. Panic crept into her heart, panic as instinctive and natural as a deer looking into the eyes of a hungry lion.

“Breathe, child. Feel the air in your lungs. Feel the strength in your arms and legs. Does not this place feel right? How small and frail you appear.... too long in a world not made for you.”

Willa could hardly protest. The music had begun again and the couples were beginning to dance. She felt dizzy, head spinning as she breathed on his command.

“Come. Come, child. This welcome is for you.”

Ren led her across the floor, the couples stopping to greet her and touch her. Hands brushed through her dress and her hair, over her arms and across her train. The people were almost reverent in their manner and curtsied or bowed to her with the respect one reserved for a princess.

Willa could not help but feel giddy. She was overwhelmed, her senses on fire. Everything in the room was intoxicating and everyone just as much so. Her instinct to flee fell away, but in some small part of her mind, a voice still cried out, but every moment it grew fainter. Ren passed her off to the woman with the blue skin and she danced with her. Ren reclaimed her and she danced with another. Willa did not know how she knew the steps, but somewhere in her bones she knew it all. She knew everything.

Food was given to her and it was as if she were tasting for the first time. Sounds were so clear and full she stood in awe of the harp and violins, enraptured by the music. Her antlers grew, velvet blunt ends spreading out to solid three points on either side, but there was no longer pain as they did, only numbness-- only contentment.

The doors burst open and a wave of heat fell over the room, disrupting the party. Standing in the middle, glowing with fire and wrath was Sala.

“How dare you trespass upon my home.” she said, voice crackling like a forest fire.  
Ren was quick to approach her, something in his face losing its easy charm and becoming slightly feral.

“You hid her from me!” he thundered, voice turning into a snarl.

Willa felt the numbness fading from her body, the rawness of emotion flooding back into her. She felt weak again and as if her throat were closing up to the size of a pin. Warm strong hands grabbed her shoulders and the same sensation she felt at Ren's touch fell over her again.

It was Heir in male form. They carefully pressed a fruit to Willa’s lips.

“Eat.” they said. Willa complied, her jaw so tired she could barely burst the flesh of the fruit. Suddenly, she felt calmed again and her strength returned somewhat.

“You were bewitching her. Taking advantage of her weakness--” Sala said.

“I brought her home! To her father's home!”

“You've put the child into shock! Her body can't handle the sudden--”

“You do not get to de-”

“Stop!” Willa said, voice soft, but still it was enough to silence Ren. Sala looked at him smugly. Ren growled, a sound like a true lion.

“Willa-” Sala began, coming towards her. She threw an arm out, pulling herself from Heir's grip and holding out her hands as if to ward them all away.

“... I want to go home.” she said, voice trembling.

“My child--” Ren began, but Sala shot him a vicious look coupled with a crackle of fire like a sunspot.

“You can not go back, Willa.” Sala said, voice firm, “I would have told you this. You can not go back, not for some time. You would not survive it.”

“...I can't go back?” Willa repeated weakly. The color was draining from her and once again she seemed so lifeless and dull compared to those around her. Visions of Amber, her life, swarmed through her mind. She was her best friend, her only family… what would Amber do without her?

“I will help you, Willa. We will make this right. In time you will be strong enough.” Sala whispered, flames resending as she reached out to her to try and steady Willa on her feet.

She felt wobbly, but cold.

This was real. It was all real.

–-

Ren would not allow Willa to leave with Sala, but he allowed Sala to remain. Willa found herself again in an unfamiliar home, tucked in an unfamiliar bed wearing borrowed clothing. The ballroom had been in blues, but the bedroom was earthy greens and browns. Where Sala's home had felt like an oriental palace, Ren’s was like a 17th century mansion in winter. Or was it her father's home? Willa could hardly think straight.

“Drink.” Heir said, still in male form and offering her a mug of warmed milk that tasted nothing like any milk she had ever had before. She grimaced, finding the taste too rich and too complex.  
“You're still adjusting. Drink. It will become more mild.” 

Heir moved to stoke the fire with a poker, bringing it up to a nice height. Willa watched it, eyes blank and vacant, finding it slightly difficult to balance her head now with the added weight of her growing antlers. Heir sighed and abruptly stood.

“You can not afford to be so fragile.” they began sternly, “My father and other fae can use their magic on you-- magic you should be immune to! You can not afford to be so weak!”

Willa stared, lips parted in shock.

“Are you serious?! I've been kidnapped-- twice, in the spans of god knows how long and you are going to tell me how I'm-- what?! Overreacting?!”

Heir shook their head and scoffed with disdain.

“Kidnapped? From what? That hovel? You should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you?! THANKING YOU?!”

Willa attempted to dramatically throw off the covers, but found she had no place to set her mug and well-- at that point the whole moment had been lost. Instead, the girl settled with sulking down against the pillows, glaring at Heir viciously.

“This is all your fault! You were-- stalking me! Stalking me and leading me to this place!!”  
Heir's eyes narrowed, but they turned away from her gaze.

“It was you.” Willa hissed, “You were the one who broke into my home. You stole me.”

“I did what I was told.” Heir said, voice low, “Father knew of your existence the moment you stepped foot in our world and was already planning his own “rescue”. Sala and I had to act before you were entrapped and entranced-- just like what happened tonight!”

“Your father wasn't the one who led me in! You were!”

“That...,” Heir swallowed, drawing a hand over the back of their neck and through the light brown curls there and then back down, “... is true.”  
Willa fell silent. A clock ticked in the hallway for four spaces before she drew her arm back and threw the mug at Heir's head.

The mug froze in mid air, milk droplets hanging motionless in a stationary spray. Slowly, the milk returned to the mug and then, gathering momentum, turned to settle into Heir's hand as if Willa had never thrown it in the first place.

Heir gave her a perplexed look.

“I... really do not know what you expected would happen if you did that.”

“... I didn't really think about it that hard.”

Despite themself, Heir laughed.

“There is nothing funny about this!” 

“No... no I suppose not. In any event, I am sorry. I... could explain myself, but it would only sound like excuses.”

“Try me.”

Heir scoffed, setting the mug upon the mantle of the room's fireplace. She could hardly blame them for not wanting to provide her with ammunition again.

“Not tonight. You need more rest.”

“I am not some child you can send to bed when it fucking pleases you.”

Heir hummed, coming closer to her and perching on the side of the bed. Willa scooted away from them, face twisting with anger.

“Don't-- don't you fucking do it. Don't you dar--”

Heir's smile reached their eyes as they lifted their hand and an indigo curtain descended over Willa’s own eyes and made them too heavy to keep open.

\--

Sleep brought dreams that felt more like visions than the hazy untouchable realm of imagination. Willa found herself in the narrow hallway of her old apartment, the tight stairwell and sterile white walls. There was a rush of feet on the stairs as Amber hurried, arms full of paper. She looked haggard, face worn and exhausted. 

Willa opened her mouth to speak, but in a moment Amber passed through her as if she were not there at all, opening the front door and disappearing onto the streets. In her hurry, Amber had dropped some papers, not pausing once to collect them. Willa saw her own face looking up from her from the paper, though she was younger. It was a photo from her old social service case, the only one that showed her face and features clearly. In big bold letters a word shouted up at her--

**MISSING.**

It was not those words that struck Willa though, but the date.

She snapped free of imposed sleep by sheer force of will.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please bare with me if you note Heir's pronouns being a little funky. Originally, I wrote "she/her" or "he/him" to suit whatever form they were in at the time but that became SUPER confusing, so I've recently been going back and using just gender neutral "they/them/their" to describe Heir.

Waking up from the spelled sleep brought the familiar feeling like taking a breath after being too long beneath water. Willa woke, gasping and choking for air. The room was still dark, as if no time had passed. But that wasn’t the case, was it?

It had barely been September when Willa had been taken, but the date in her vision clearly near the end of the month. How had so much time passed? There was no one within the room to ask. Heir had disappeared, leaving Willa alone in the lodge like room. She got up, pulling the thicker warm sleeping gown down into place and heading to the door only to find it was locked.

Her hosts had learned from last time, it would seem.

The smell of food became evident to Willa as she turned to see a plate had been brought for her and set on a beautiful carved vanity. The vanity was dotted with jars and bottles containing liquids and powders. The plate had a variety of foods she recognized from the ball including a fine roasted quail, cooked vegetables still steaming somehow and some kind of braised mushrooms. A smaller plate had figs and a heavy slice of a dark bread. Willa felt her stomach clench and her mouth water.

With no chance of escape, she sat down, finding a bit of butter and what looked to be black roe eggs near the bread. There was a goblet filled with milk so cold that the glass was wet with condensation, fingerprints marking where she touched it. Willa went with the familiar foods first, spearing the vegetables on a fork and tasting them. It was like asparagus, but so much more. It was as if with each bite she could taste the earth the plant grew from and the sun and fresh water that nurtured it. Mushrooms, which usually Willa could not stomach, tasted of churned earth and for a moment she even tasted the faint memory of the underbrush the fungi had grown from. The bread was moist and the butter on it brought a whole new layer of complexity. Grains and pastures, rolling hills…. the essence was somehow captured and preserved in every bite. Curiously, she took a bit of the roe and spread it over the golden butter of the bread, taking a tentative bite. An explosion of ocean salt ran over her tongue, bringing memory of depths uncharted. Willa devoured the bread fastest, turning now to the quail and experiencing the rush of air and the flutter of wings.

Willa was so enraptured in her meal, gulping down mouthfuls of milk ravenously, that she barely noticed the flutter of air and the passing of mist under her door.

“Χαίρετε!”

Willa startled, nearly spitting out her mouthful as she turned to stare at her visitor. Willa immediately recognized her as the blue skinned and silver haired guest at her “homecoming”. She tilted her head at Willa’s lack of response.

“Hello.” she said again, smiling. Her canines were unnaturally sharp.

“... hi.” Willa said, slowly.

The girl dipped into a small curtsy, the flowing Grecian dress she wore billowing around her legs. When she rose, Willa noted she had webbed bare feet and her hands too were webbed.

“I am Callista, third daughter of the King of Beasts and High Lord of the Seelie Court.”

Willa felt severely undressed in comparison, wearing her wool nightdress and realizing she had gotten a fair bit of crumbs on the collar. The blue girl, Callista, looked at her expectantly. Willa quickly set down her fork and knife and stood, feeling as if it must be the right thing to do.

“Willa Burke. Uh, Daughter of-- Oisin.” 

She supposed that was the truth, based on what they had told her. Willa gave a quick dipped curtsy in return. Callista smiled again, beaming bright.

“Willa.” Callista repeated, “Shall we be friends?”

“Um, sure?” Willa said, trying to smile in turn. Callista’s demeanor softened to that of an excited little girl, despite the fact she looked perhaps seventeen. She happily rushed over, snagging a fig off Willa’s plate and giggling as she sat down on the chest that stood in front of the bed.

“I’m so sad you couldn’t stay for the party! Is it really quite overwhelming? They said you were exhausted, but you look so refreshed now!”

Willa took one of the figs from the plate, nibbling on it as Callista did.

“It’s… it’s a lot. I have a question actually.”

Callista beamed brighter, if possible.

“Please!”

“Do you… do you know how long I’ve been here?”

“Here? Oh, only a small time. The party ended at the dawn of the sun, but my father keeps the sun veiled here.”

“No, I mean how long have I been here. The Seed.”

“Sidhe? Oh, I suppose about four or five suns.” Callista said, licking fig juice from her fingers and taking another.

Willa fiddled with her own, suddenly feeling a bit too full.

“And how many “suns” is that where I came from?”

“The mortal coil?”

Willa nodded.

“Ah, that is difficult.” Callista began brushing her fingers through her fine silvery hair, something about her features seeming less childlike the longer they spoke.

“I’d say, depending on the seasons, perhaps a month.”

Willa felt the floor surged down, blood rushing to her feet.

“A month?!”

The door to the room opened harshly, Heir stood in the doorway in the shape of the dark-haired woman from when Willa first met her. When her pale green eyes settled upon Callista they narrowed and darkened.

“Get out.”

Callista’s bright gleaming smile became sly, fangs almost visible over her lips. She stood up, each step slinked and slow.

“You have ill timing, brother.” she said, the last word a mocking sneer.

“Father has left Oisin’s child in my charge, and as such--”

“Oh hush. No need to bring father into this.”

Callista turned back to Willa, lifted her hand to gently brush through her hair, twirling the end before she let it drop.

“We’re friends, aren’t we Willa? Wouldn’t you rather have me care for you?”

Heir froze, eyes widening, waiting. Willa wasn’t sure what it was she was waiting for, but cast a hesitant look between the two siblings, remembering the sneer in Callista’s voice when she said “brother” and noting the cruelness of Callista’s refusing to acknowledge the change in Heir’s shape.

Willa felt her own eyes narrow and although she still shook with the news of the lapse of time, she stood.

“I think you should go, if… if that is what Heir says. It was nice to meet you.”

Callista looked stunned, but the expression faded as she laughed, high and loud.

“It appears you are a bit more clever than I thought! Very well Heir, if daddy says so and lady Willa wishes, then I will take my leave.”

The girl faded into fine mist, the water vapor looping around Willa before heading out past Heir and through the door. Heir made certain she was out of the way when she passed and slammed the door behind her.

She stood with her back to Willa, trying to compose herself.

“You shouldn’t tell anyone your name. I’m sorry, that was my mistake…. I should have explained at least that.”

She turned towards Willa, crossing the room quick enough that the other girl started and stepped back. She reached out, pausing as if remembering herself.

“... may I?”

“May you what?” she said, voice tense.

“I just want to check, make sure her influence is not there.”

Willa considered for a moment and then gave a faint nod. Heir’s hands were warm, soft, they cupped her face gently and tilted her chin up to look into her eyes. She turned Willa’s head every so often, examining her face with quick flicks of her pale eyes. It suddenly occurred to Willa that as a woman, Heir was shorter than her.

“Close, please.” she said quietly and Willa let her eyelids drop. Her thumbs ran over, tracing down her lashes.

“Could you open your mouth?”

Willa hesitated for only a moment before doing so. One of her hands slid down to cup her chin, turning her head from side to side and then back.

“You want me to say “ah”?” Willa’s joke was lost on Heir, who simply continued her examination and then, satisfied, let her go.

“You are fine.”

Willa closed her mouth and opened her eyes, stepping back to put distance between them again. She felt light headed, but the feeling passed as the blood settled back throughout her body. Her hands felt cold, so she balled them into fists.

“Who was that? She said she was Ren’s daughter.”

Heir grimaced a smile, “Yes. Callista is my sister by my father’s blood. Her mother is a siren, if you could not tell. We… do not get along. She acts childlike, but it is all a ruse... apart for her childlike cruelty.”

She sighed, “She came here to get your name, most likely to try and spell you or control you. Names are important, no one except those you trust most in this world should ever know it. Callista is not her name, as Heir is not mine. Only our mothers know, and no mother would ever divulge such a secret, even upon pain of death.”

Heir smiled, “You are lucky. Your name was given to you by the mortals. You do not even know your true heart name.”

Willa, however, did not smile and in fact she suddenly looked stricken. Heir furrowed her brow in confusion.

“...I… am lucky? I don’t even know my own name, my only family is back in the “mortal coil” and has been looking for me for over a MONTH. But no, no I should be thankful you took me from the “hovel” right? I should be overflowing with gratitude!”

Willa felt her eyes overflowing, which only made her more angry because she didn’t want to cry in front of Heir. The fae looked utterly baffled by her outburst.

“Do you have any idea what it is like to suddenly not-- not know who you are?! Or what you are?! I mean, five days ago my biggest concern was-- was whether I had shampoo to use instead of bar soap and making sure not to drop my serving tray.”

Instinctively, Willa began looking around for her inhaler, knowing she’d need it soon, but remembered again that she was not at home. She shrieked in frustration, throwing her arms up to grab at her scalp only to yelp as she knocked into her sensitive buds.

She hissed, holding her wrist and seeing a bright blotch of red rise up in her palm. She’d forgotten her new antlers, banging her hand upon the soft but sturdy surface. Her tantrum began to lessen and instead she hiccuped and wiped furiously at her eyes as Heir gently reached out for her hand. Defeated, she let her take her hands, drawing Willa over to sit on the edge of the bed as Heir kneeled down before her. Soft indigo light came from her hands and Willa felt the sting lessen.

The bruise was healed, but there was still a lingering ache in her head now. Heir’s voice was quiet as she brought over a cup and a pitcher of water, filling it and giving the cup to Willa.

“Don’t ever leave blood either… it can be dangerous.”

Heir carefully examined Willa's head, noting that with the lessening of the foods spell, they would begin to ache with growing pains once more. She got up to add another log to the fire, the wood crackling in the silence and filling the room with more soothing warmth. She waited until it was burning nicely before she returned to Willa’s side.

“I do understand, Willa… more than I can say. I’m sorry, I’m tasked with keeping you, but I’ve so far done a poor job of it.”

Willa took in a shaky breath as she continued, surprised that it came easier than usual.

“Sala should have not dropped on you so harshly the fact you can not go back. It is not that you can’t, it is that you can’t yet.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“The human world is… harsh on us. Living so long among them has weakened you both in body and in magic. To take you from this place now and put you back where you were so sick would be like dropping an infant into an icy lake and leaving it to dry in a chilled breeze.”

“Could you please not with the flourishy flowery talk?”

“Ah… it would be very bad. You would be more likely to take ill and even die. Once you are stronger, you can go back, Willa, but you can never stay there permanently.”

“So what? Visits?”

“Yes, visits. Like we all do.”

Willa wiped her face, “How long?”

“A few months, maybe? Maybe more.”

“How long will that be in “mortal” time?”

Heir shook her head, “It is not possible to say. Time moves differently here. It could be seconds, it could be years. I’m sorry, Willa.”

Heir folded Willa’s smaller hands in her own, rubbing warmth back into them.

“I can take you to Sala now. She asked to see you and my father has agreed to it as long as he is present.”

Heir stood, helping her to her feet.

“I’ll leave you to dress. You’ll find clothes in the armoire that should be fitting. I’ll wait in the hall.”

Willa meekly nodded, limbs feeling heavy again in her sadness. She felt she could sleep for a week now. Heir squeezed her hands.

“No one will harm you here, Willa. You are special and we have been waiting for you for a long time.”

Heir’s hands became even larger over her own, veins more distinct on the forearms as the muscle changed. Her body shifted into the light haired man, but the eyes were the same though Willa had to look up to meet them now.

“In front of my father… I am thus. Try to avoid addressing me as a female in his presence even if I appear as such, he-” Heir paused, considering before he settled with, “-disapproves.”

Before Willa could ask, Heir left, his gown of pale green silk fading to the green tunic and soft brown breeches he had worn before. The door closed behind him and left Willa alone.

\--

Willa managed to locate clothing more practical than the flowing dresses that these people seemed desperate to force on her. In the armoire, she found hardly anything else but she managed to pull out a pair of dark breeches that tied at the ankle, soft knit socks and leather boots and a grey dress that was very short, but when paired with the breeches felt more like a tank tunic with leggings that Willa was accustomed to. The grey dress was plain, with the barest embellishment of subtle lace ruffles that ran down the seams in the front. There was all manner of jewelry to be found as well, but Willa merely stared at herself in the mirror, transfixed at the sight of the two protrusions growing from her head. She turned her head a few times, the feeling of air moving down over the soft velvet that the antlers were still encased in. The itching had stopped and she'd yet to feel anymore pain.

Feeling well fed and rested, if not emotionally drained, Willa found the door unlocked and moved out into the hall. Heir was waiting for her and smiled faintly.

"Are you ready?" he asked, offering her an arm. It was strange to hear his voice so deep and grave, lacking the musical sound of the female voice, but still so similar. Willa almost took his arm, but decided against it, instead striding forward without him.

"Let's just get this over with." she said, though her voice was quiet.

Heir half led half walked behind her, guiding her through the lodge that clearly was not decorated same as the marbled blue ballroom in the chateau nor the oriental style monastery that was Sala's home. This home was earthy and had the air of a winter hunting lodge, though there were no pelts or animal hides to be seen.

Willa could faintly hear the voice of Sala and Ren as they neared a room center in the lodge. Willa caught a glance outside a window to see a frozen forest-scape in the dark. Callista had been truthful about one thing, the sun had not risen in this place for a long time.

"This is her father's home--"

"And were her father here it would be different, but he isn't and she needs--"

"What she needs is to be with those who care for her! Who her father would have wanted--"

"I HARDLY think you are the most suited--"

Sala's voice cut off as Willa entered the room. Callista was present as well, draped in an armchair and looking quite bored. Ren first looked irritated at the interruption, glaring at Heir, but when his eyes settled on Willa the glare turned into a kindly smile. Sala had turned her attention back to Ren, scowling with disapproval.

"My dear, I trust you have rested well? Did you find the food to your liking?" Ren said, approaching her slowly as if not to spook her.

Willa shrugged, "It was alright."

Understatement, but she was tired of pleasantries and posturing. All anyone had done since she arrived was pat and coddle her-- and maybe she had asked for it, she'd not exactly been the most stable over the past few days, but now? Now things have changed.

Heir was her shadow all the while.

Sala gestured to an armchair, plush and green.

"Would you like to sit? Now that the dramatics have ceased--"

Ren scoffed.

"-- we can return to our original conversation."

Willa looked at the chair and then back at Sala, her eyes moving around the room at each person before settling on Callista.

"Heir says she tried to do something to me. I don't want her here."

Callista looked up indignantly, eyes falling to her father with outrage.

"I did nothing! All I did was ask the little fawn if we could be friends..."

"Then attempted to learn her name and bewitch her into choosing another guardian." Heir said, standing straighter as if delivering a report to a general. Ren did not look pleased, his eyes turning on Callista looking almost gold in the fire light.

"Go home, child. We will speak of this later."

Callista pouted, crossing her arms defiantly.

"I said go." Ren's voice edged to a snarl, something heavy in the words that made Callista and Heir shudder, through Heir less so. Callista vanished into a puff of mist, quickly exiting the room. Ren waited for a few moments, perhaps sensing that she was truly gone before he turned back.

"I apologize for my daughter. She does not have the same measure of discipline as my son, as you no doubt have seen. Children." Ren said, shrugging.

Sala sneered, "Yes, discipline is all she lacks certainly."

Willa took a seat as the two engaged in another glaring match. Heir came to stand at her side. Sala sat in the plush sofa to Willa's right and Ren inched closer to the fireplace, resting his arm against the mantle.

Before Sala could speak, Willa interrupted,

"Who was my father?"

Sala pressed her lips together, as if she were not yet prepared to answer that question. Ren however, wasted no time.

"Your father was a Golden Hart. There are many kinds of fae as you have seen. My daughter Callista, a siren, a water fae. I myself am a shape-changer as is my son and heir. Sala is a fire lizard-"

"Salamander." Sala corrected.

"We are but beings of myth in the world where you were left, but once our worlds were much closer. As the old world died, people forgot us and the pathways shut."

"You recall what I said about paper and ink bleeding through?" Sala said, interrupting, but Ren said nothing. Willa nodded.

"Your father was a fae of great power. The Golden Hart, faes of immense power, masters of nature and beasts alike. It was thought before that he was the last of his kind." Ren continued, turning from the mantle towards her.

"... he died. He took the secret of you with him. Why he left you in the mortal realm is uncertain. Perhaps he himself did not know of you."

Willa fidgeted with the hem of the dress.

"And my mother?"

"We do not know. Most fae take the characteristics of the mother, but in the case of some it is whomever's blood is more ancient. A Hart will always beget a Hart."

"How did you find me?" Willa asked, but the question was directed up at Heir. Heir flushed, turning his face downcast as his father frowned.

"My son found you first, but chose to keep that information from me and instead shared it with this Eastern--"

"I'll have you stop right there." Sala said, heat crackling from her fingers.

"Heir approached me because they realized they made a mistake. By slipping through the realm, they inadvertently brought some of the essence of this place with them. You came into contact, you began to develop your antlers. It was only a matter of time before you either became too inhuman, and the humans turned upon you or you befell some other disaster."

"Heir should have come to me. He," and Ren placed a lot of emphasis on the pronoun, "should have known I would never have punished him for finding Oisin's child. He was my dearest friend."

Sala did nothing to hide her disgust except turning her attention to burning off threads from a silk pillow. The smell of burning fabric was strong.

Heir said nothing about the silent war of her identity happening between the two older fae, instead she remained quiet, tilting her head so the male form's chestnut hair hid her face more. Willa allowed a moment of silence before asking the most important question.

"When can I go home?"

"Home?"

"I want to go back."

Ren looked shocked, truly, while Sala appeared unsurprised.

"Back? Why in all the heavens would you want to go back? Willa, this is your home. You should have never been in that place." Ren shook his head, "Just feel the air, focus upon your body... it feels less painful doesn't it?"

Ren had a point there. Since coming, Willa had felt the pain of breath less and less. She had not needed her medicine once, safe for when Heir provided her with mint leaves. Her appetite had been strong, her sleep while magically induced, less fitful. Her entire body felt-- good. Strong. Rested. It was Willa's heart that languished.

"Someone very important to me is there. She is my sister, my family. I know you say this man was my father, but... but he is dead! I lived my whole life orphaned... maybe if there was some family, something, I'd stay, but it feels like there is more back there for me than here."

Ren shook his head still, baffled. Heir too looked a bit uncertain with how he grimaced his mouth into a tight line. Sala sighed.

"The answer to your question is within a few months time. You have two choices. Either we can ease you back into the feeling of the mortal realm, or we can focus on strengthening your magic. Easing you back will make the shock of the return not kill you, and you may live your life in the mortal realm, though it will be much shorter." Sala summoned a little flame, dancing it over her fingertips.

"Or we teach you your gifts and you become strong enough to pass through realms yourself... but you can not live there. You could visit, but you would need to return here frequently. You are no changeling, you would need to recharge."

Willa didn't understand what she meant by a changeling, but she nodded all the same.

"I... think I would rather be eased out."

"I can not believe I am hearing this." Ren said at last, turning on Heir, "Did you encourage this?"

Heir started, shaking their head quickly.

"I said nothing. I only told her the same options that lay before her now. I think she should stay, father, but the choice is--"

"Bah." Ren scoffed again, waving his hand dismissively. Heir wilted, but her eyes still gleamed sharp.

"I apologize Ren, was Oisin's will that you protect or imprison his only child?"

Ren rounded on Sala, jabbing a finger in her direction. His appearance was becoming less polished, more feral, hair seemingly growing and his beard becoming less trimmed. Meanwhile, Heir seemed less luminous, more reserved. The color of her skin had lost some saturation as if she were trying to fade from sight.

"I am protecting her. Protecting her from that world where she will barely live to see fifty human years." Ren took that moment to round towards Willa.

"Do you understand, Willa? I do not mean to frighten you, but if you stay in the human realm you run the risk of death. You will be weak, your breath will be short and fail you. You will certainly die young, if not even younger should you fall ill to one of their diseases--

"Father--" Heir said, interjecting as she noticed how Willa's face was falling fast.

"She should know what it is she has chosen if she chooses it! I want her to understand! Do you?! Do you understand going back there is the same as a death sentence?"

Sala laughed loudly, dry and humorless, but before she could begin to speak whatever thought caused the laughter, Ren now turned on her, beast-like in his appearance.

"Do not dare speak, foul lizardess. You are here at the grace of myself, you have no rights."

Sala rose up in a whirl of fire, charring the couch below her. A shower of ash lifted from it as the flame extinguished as she removed her touch from it. Willa feared for a moment the two may actually physically fight, when Heir placed himself between them, pushing them back.

"Stop, please. This is not what Oisin would have wanted... is it father?" Heir whispered, looking up at him with pleading reverence. The gesture seemed to calm Ren, his appearance smoothing once more in an even shift. Sala however, still steamed.

"Willa.... has the only right." Sala said, voice wavering between even and harsh. Ren looked at her then, seeing the pale terror on her face and the golden of his skin seemed to pale as Heir's did.

".... very well."

And in a moment, Ren vanished.

Heir let loose a haggard sigh, the breath taking the male form from her and leaving her once again in her long haired female form.

"That was.... better than expected."

Sala lashed out, burning the sofa to a pile of ash in one swell of great hot flame. Willa felt her hair curl in the dry air. Once Sala’s “tantrum” was over, she cooled, steam dissipating from her skin. 

"I don't... will I really die if I go back?" Willa said, voice quiet. Sala seemed to come out of whatever rage that had possessed her and came to the girl slowly. For a moment, Willa was reminded of Amber's gentle touch as Sala took her arms and squeezed.

"Yes and no. I can help you adjust to life in the mortal realm. Will it take time? Yes. Can I say how much time will pass back in the mortal realm while you are here? No... but I will help you get back to that place if that is what you wish, Willa."

Sala's eyes trailed up from Willa's to the antlers on her head.

"It may take a season for the antlers to grow and shed, but they will shed. It is then your magic will be more dormant."

"I don't think it is right to let her make such a choice now, when she has seen so little of our world." Heir said, sounding a bit too much like Ren now for either woman's taste.

"There is no hurry," Heir continued, "It will still be some time before she is strong enough to make such a choice. We have to wait for her constitution to even out. Why not let her see, Sala? You can not make a decision fully while still blind."

Willa pressed her lips together, not certain if anything this chaotic place could show her was worth staying for.

"It is morning, though my father keeps this veil cloaked. Let me take her to the forests and valleys, let me show her the place of her birth and then.... then the decision will be full."

"Does nobody care at all what I want?" Willa asked, feeling her heart speed at the anger in her own voice.

"Of course I care." Heir replied, softening the harsh stance she had taken, arms clasped behind her back.

"I care and that is why I want this decision to be informed. Sala.... you have every much of a bias as my father and you know it. You can not force this decision. You are simply utilizing my father's harshness a moment ago to your own advantage."

Sala released Willa, most likely because heat was returning to her palms.

"The longer she stays, the more at risk she is."

"The quicker she leaves the more at risk she is." Heir countered.

Willa sighed.

"If I'll die if I go back too soon... then.... then I have to find something to do. I can't just stay locked up in this place."

Heir nodded.

"Do you want to go with me, Willa? Do you want to see our world, or would you rather not?"

Willa remembered the forest from her first time entering this place and the magical feeling of the woods and wind, the flowers that grew around her feet. She had questions, questions that had not yet been fully answered about who she was, who her father was.... what this PLACE was. It seemed better to just run, to never look back and forget everything, but if that option was not available to her? Then what?

"I don't know." Willa responded honestly, "I just... I don't know."

"What would you like to do?"

Willa hesitated and then said the only thing that made sense, "I... want to go to that forest. The one I started in."

Heir smiled, Sala said nothing, simply throwing her sari over her shoulder.

"Then I take my leave as well. I have _business_ to attend to outside our dominion. Heir, I now task you with her safekeeping. Do not let her fall to harm."

It sounded more like a warning than a request and with the smell of smoke, Sala too vanished.

\---

It took less time than Willa would have thought to re enter the forest. Heir had guided her through the lodge, coming to a door with a great wooden tree etched upon it. 

"This will do." they said, tracing their fingertips over the raised wood. Indigo came off their hands and seeped into the door. Heir closed their eyes.

The door opened unto the green forest, daylight shining through the heavy canopy of leaves. Willa felt her breath catch and she could not stop herself from walking forward, the grass soft and thick beneath her boots. She had a strong urge to take off her shoes.

Heir closed the door behind them, all trace of it disappearing.

"In time, I can teach you how to call the portals yourself. Moving through our own realm is a simple thing any fae child can accomplish."

Willa only nodded absently, watching again as the flowers appeared. Standing longer, the stems curled around her ankles, rising up higher and higher.

"Why does it do that?" she asked, lifting her foot and watching the flowers turn brown and black, withering down to the grass which remained brown for only a moment before reclaiming its green color.

"You are a being of pure nature, Willa. It bends to your will, it feels the silent call of your heart. Had you ever noticed anything strange before when you lived even in the mortal coil?"

Willa considered the fact never had a cat, a dog or any creature bitten her enough to cause pain. She'd never been scratched. Even the most feral of city cats had curiously come to her call and allowed her to stroke them and were contented by her. She remembered one foster home had a dog that often was chained outside the home, aggressive and mean from the treatment of the foster father. Only Willa's touched had soothed it, her touch was the only touch it accepted.

"Besides the weird collection of animals I ran into before I met you?"

That too.

Heir laughed.

"You've probably never killed a plant either, no matter how hard you tried."

"I don't know, I never had many houseplants."

"I noticed that. You should have many, it would help."

Willa forgot that Heir had been in her room and she felt now was a good time to ask them about that as well.

"How _did_ you find me?"

Willa leaned against the trunk of a tree, picking up a leg to begin undoing her boot laces. She felt the tree press back, which would have been startling once. The bark was rough, but not uncomfortable.

"I am a creature of nature too, Willa." Heir said, deflecting.

"That's not what I asked."

"I... had a feeling."

Willa tossed her boots unto the ground, letting her toes feel into the earth and curl into the grass. The ground was cool and refreshing, grounding and calming. For a moment, Willa acted as if Heir was not even there, enjoying the feel of the faint burst of warmth when the sunlight splayed out from the leaves.

In a moment, her eyes flashed mischievously at Heir and she took off, running through the forest, blonde hair trailing behind her. Heir was quick to pursue, laughing as he chased her. Willa reached out her hands, pushing away leaves in her mind so the sun would come through. The trees bent to her will, happy to let the rays fall upon her.

Willa closed her eyes, knowing the trees would move and bend to make way for her. The flowers grew, exalted by her touch only to die moments later. It was a content death, a happy death... the cycle of all things. Air filled her lungs fuller than ever before, making her dizzy with it. A raven flew past her ear, swirling up and cawing as it swooped back down and turned into a stag, running alongside her. Willa found she easily could keep pace with Heir, even in this form, so much so she was out running them.

Her blood pounded, alive and free in her veins. Each moment, she felt-- she felt _better_ , clear and fresh. The woods broke upon a valley of thick tall grasses and wildflowers. Heir caught up to her, turning into a wild bobcat as they pounced upon her, knocking her off her feet with a gentle thud.

Willa laughed, a bubble of beauty that made the flowers burst petals upon the wind. As she lay in the grass, Heir purring and content upon her chest, she felt the flowers rise up, blooming into bright suns above them. Purple, blue and yellow... the colors were familiar yet she felt she was seeing them for the first time. 

"This... this place, it... it feels wonderful." Willa said, like a secret confession. She sat up, freeing her fingers from where small vines had grown up to touch her. Heir shifted again into a raven, settling upon her shoulder and preening her hair gently. She pecked at the velvet mound where her antlers grew. Willa giggled, squishing up her shoulders at the tickling sensation.

It was as if Heir was silently saying, _See? See?_

She almost could imagine it was summer again and she was at the garden. Open her eyes and she'd be there, just a few blocks from home and from Amber. The thought of Amber soured her heart, drawing her back to the reality she had let slip from her mind.

The world grew cold and the grass under her body sharper, less alive. Willa opened her eyes and through hazy outlines could see the dull sky of the world she left. It was the garden, but not in summer but the dead of autumn. Amber was there, sitting on the bench, wrapped up in a coat. She looked into the distance, and she was... sad. Desperately sad.

Wind scattered leaves around her, picking up strands of Amber's red hair and twisting them around her face, obscuring her.

"Amber."

The girls eyes lifted at the sound, but did not see her. Hands took her face, gently leading her back. Willa let her chin be guided, finding herself looking into Heir's pale eyes. She was again in the field, skin suddenly cold and faint. Heir rubbed soothing circles into her temples.

"Did you see her?" Heir asked, quiet.

"She... she can't lose me. She has no one else, you don't understand."

"Time is..." Heir paused, then continued, "...a healer. Loss is common in humans, Willa."

The callousness, no matter how neatly packaged, shocked her enough Willa pulled free of Heir's hands, curling away from them. Her head hurt again, the skin around her antlers itching. She scratched at it, no matter how much it hurt.

"She lost her entire family. It wasn't like with me, Amber knew them enough to love them. Enough to _hurt_. I never knew them. I was left wrapped in a blanket at a fire station."

Heir looked perplexed, "... fire station?"

"It's-- it's people who go and put out fires. Like if someones house caught on fire? Anyway, they take babies that no one wants." Willa said, bitter.

"I always thought they didn't want me, now I don't know what to think."

Heir plucked a flower from the grass, finding the large blossoms were quickly fading without Willa's joy to nourish them. They curled in, drooping around her as if to try and shield her from the hurt.

"Your father did not leave you, Willa, he died."

"How?" she said, feeling her throat strain.

Heir struggled to answer, as if it pained them to speak of.

"I was not yet born myself, but I was told he died... in the pursuit of his duty."

"Duty?"

"Some fae are more unique than others, their magic stronger and their lives special. Your father and you are such fae. He... did what must be done."

"But how did he die? Specifically."

Heir shook their head.

"I do not know the specifics. Sala would more likely be the most willing to tell you, but she is bound to not speak of it... it causes her too much pain."

Willa uncurled a bit, leaning back on her palms and tilting her head up to the sun. Her breath had begun to become harder again to fill, but she tried to ease it again.

"Were they really friends? Your father and my father?"

Heir gave a wary smile.

"They were lovers."

Willa's head smacked back down, staring at Heir with shock.

"But-- wait, what?"

"Fae are not all monogamous, Willa. It is as I said. Oisin and my father were lovers, as I believe were Sala and my father.... but that was a long time ago. The loss of Oisin destroyed what they had."

Willa could hardly believe it. Sala and Ren? They could barely stand the sight of each other, she could hardly imagine them being intimate.

"My father has one queen, of course, but she is not even my mother and I am still his heir. Beast changers are a dying breed. My father has had many women in the hopes of having more with our gift. I have more brothers and sister than I could account for. Callista is his true oldest, so do not be fooled. She is many centuries old."

"And your mother? And you?"

"My mother is a bit of a mystery, like your own. Father is too heartbroken at her loss to speak of it, almost as heartbroken over it as the loss of Oisin." Heir shrugged, "As for my age, I am an infant still in most eyes. By humanities standards, probably near your own age. By fae standards? I am maybe half a century. Time moves differently depending on the realm."

Willa shuddered, "Don't take me to visit those realms."

"So you do wish to visit more?" Heir asked, a sly smile playing across their lips. Willa couldn't help but shove them. Heir only smiled wider.

"I didn't say that... but I suppose I have to find something to pass the time before I can go home, just as long as it isn't TOO much time. The last thing I want is to go somewhere for half an hour and find out half a millennium has gone by back home."

"I will take you anywhere you'd like. My father has passed the duty of protector onto me, so while you are a guest of his house I am at your disposal."

Heir didn't sound entirely pleased, his words becoming a bit clipped at the word "disposal".

"Did you want to? I mean, Callista seemed willing to take on the job."

Heir visibly ruffled, even if he had no feathers.

"I would not trust Callista with a cactus."

Willa was shocked into laughter, finding the turn of phrase so surprisingly... mortal.

"I was curious about another thing.... your form. You change into a man whenever you have to speak to your father."

Heir's demeanor turned cold, "Yes, I do."

"It... just seems a bit like he forces you to."

"It's not a matter for others, it is familial. There are manners that perhaps the mortal realm lacks, but here it is considered very poor taste to inquire to the inner struggles of another house."

The scolding nature of Heir's tone took Willa back, making her feel defensive. 

"Yet every single one of you seems so happy to push in on mine."

"You don't have a house." Heir said simply, "You have to have a--"

"A what? A family?" Willa said, sneering as she stood up and brushed dead flowers from her clothes.

"I didn't mean--"

"Whatever. Don't worry about it. Look, I know your dad seems determined that I stay with him or in that big empty cold place, but honestly? I'd like to go back to Sala's now."

Heir paled, "Not because of me?"

"No, because your father seems like a fucking jerk and so far the only person who hasn't imposed on me this idea I should be grateful or happy to be here is Sala."

That made Heir pale even more, eyes wide.

"What's wrong?" Willa said, throwing her arms out.

".... my father won't be pleased."

"I don't give a good god damn what he wants. Even if he and my dad were boyfriends or whatever." Willa said, her own firmness shocking her. Heir snorted, as if covering a laugh.

"It is your choice. Though I should warn you, my father plans to throw another "homecoming" for you. Fairies from all around the land wish to attend. It will be quite a large affair."

"I guess I don't have a choice?"

Heir smiled, "There is always a choice, Willa, but in this? ....perhaps not."

\---

Sala's home was almost a relief after the cold blue halls and eternal winter of the lodge. The sun had begun its descent into twilight and an even more ethereal glow had come across the warm monastery. Willa's clothes felt too warm in fact, but Sala was more than happy to provide her with a lovely lavender and silver sari of her own.

"Is it always like this?" the girl asked as Sala tied the sash around her, "I think I've had more outfits in the past few days than my entire life."

Sala laughed her musical laugh, her henna hands deft and firm.

"And more food as well. We are lavish creatures, Willa." Sala said, guiding her to the room Willa recognized as the sitting area she had been unceremoniously ripped from a day prior.

"Before I sit down, just wanted to check that I won't be flying today?"

Sala grinned, settling down on the pillows. The teapot was still there and brewing, but now there were plates of finger foods arranged around. There was also a bowl of thick green paste that smelled heavily of eucalyptus, a small thin instrument dipped into it. Heir was asleep, lounging against the soft pillows.

"No. But it appears you've managed to wear out our dear raven." Sala said, gently fluffing Heir’s chestnut hair. Heir mumbled and turned their face into the plush rugs.

Sala took up the slender tool from the bowl and began to dot the paste onto her skin, continuing a pattern on her hands. Willa watched, leaning over to pick up a wrapped leaf from the tray, inside stuffed with rice and cinnamon smelling meats. 

Sala, after a moment, extended her hand to Willa.

"Would you like me to paint your hands? The coloring on your nails is almost gone, I can remove it."

Willa looked at the chipped red nail polish.

"Yes to the painting, but... I want to keep the polish."

Sala didn't question, which Willa appreciated, only gently took her pale hand in own bronze one and rubbed, massaging the skin. Sala considered for a moment before taking up her tools and beginning to dot the henna upon Willa’s skin.

"It will be almost as dark as wine on you. So fair. A few days in our sun will change that."

"I like it." Heir murmured sleepily, "She has so many freckles. Like a baby deer."

"Yeah, like the antlers don't make me look that way enough."

Sala scooted closer, ignoring the pair of them as she went about her work. Willa could feel the internal flame of the fire fae enveloping her, keeping her warm despite the thin silk of her clothes.

"How did you know my father?" Willa asked.

"Oisin was a dear friend. Beloved by all."

"That’s what everyone keeps saying, but what was he really like?"

Sala's eyes softened, "Kind. Gentle. Perhaps a bit too meek for his own good, but Golden Harts are generally thus. You are soft spirits, ancient and old. Older even than some of my own kind."

"Golden Harts were once numerous, but like beast changers, their numbers dwindle as the forests in the mortal realm were destroyed."

Sala shook her head, "It is a different world. What are the whispers of the woods to the roar of automobiles or the darkness in the face of artificial light? That world has less of a place for us with each passing year."

Willa watched a butterfly flutter in from above, landing on her knee. The small thing transformed, a tiny woman, naked and white. She bowed to Willa, transformed again and fluttered off.

"Pixies." Sala huffed, swatting the butterfly away.

"You'll have your time to visit during the festivities. Out."

"Heir mentioned that."

Sala nodded, "It is expected. Not even I can stop it, but you do not have to stay long. Often these parties will last for days, so there will be plenty of chances for everyone to meet you."

Willa felt her skin prickle, fearful suddenly of all those eyes.

"You are expected to do nothing but appear and be admired. They will bring you gifts of all kinds, which you will be expected to accept without anything given in return. You may be shocked to hear it, but Ren and I are not the only ones who bid for your attention." Sala said, tone humorous, but Willa could not help but feel the truth in her words.

The henna was warm, despite its wetness as she traced fine lines across her fingers. The sensation tickled.

"Some latitude will be given. Usually there is procedure for these things, but I am sure most will find your ignorance quaint." Heir said, dozing still.

"Oh hush, you fiend." Sala said, kicking a pillow up at Heir.

"Heir, has the manners of their father sometimes. A beast." Sala said, Heir opening one eye to give her an unamused look.

"They will be your escort, if you wish. Or I can find someone less obnoxious."

"They won't get rid of me that easy. They brought me into this place, so they can keep the job."

"Have they told you that they are to do as you so order? Fetch drinks. Food. Scrub your latrine."

Willa cast Heir a look of feigned delight at the news.

"So less a body guard and more a personal servant."

"A personal servant? I like that." Sala said with a grin.

Heir grunted, "I'll mind my manners."

"See that you do." Sala said, finishing Willa's first hand and beckoning her to give her the other.

"You may prepare here for the homecoming, or at Ren's palace."

"I'd rather stay here." Willa said, hushing her voice as if Ren might hear and appear at any moment.

"I'm delighted." Sala said, and meant it. She did not stop smiling the rest of the time she worked on Willa's henna.

"I'll do your feet next. Heir come here and serve a purpose."

Heir groaned, rolling over unto their hands and knees and crawling over to where they sat. 

"Lift your legs." Sala said, taking Willa's bare foot in her hand and tugging up. Willa did as she was beckoned and Heir slid underneath where they once were. Her legs were draped over Heir's chest and her feet in Sala's lap. Sala untied the dark breeches and folded them up to her calf. Sala began to draw designs upon Willa's ankle.

"So when is this party?" 

"In a day and an eve. So you have plenty of time for me to catch you up on your education."

Willa tilted her head and at the same time, Heir opened their eyes into pale slits.

"Education?"

"Yes, there is a particular way things are done here and you would do well to follow the rules."

\---

Night came and Willa found she slept easily. Heir had insisted upon sleeping on her floor in lion form, but had been designated to guarding outside.

As she slept, she dreamed.

_Sala smoked in her lounge, blowing thick rings of smoke like an idle dragon. Ren approached, dressed now in a black suit more akin to a Victorian age baron. If it was one thing Willa knew, it was that appearances were sacred in this place, just as in the mortal realm._

_Sala watched him as he moved around her, not looking at her but clearly as discontent as a caged lion._

_"I told her nothing. Neither did Heir."_

_Ren stopped in his tracks, turning his attention to her as if it were the first he noticed her._

_"I did not doubt it. You would be breaking cordiality if you did so."_

_"You think that concerns me?" Sala said, smoke creeping from her mouth in thick wisps. Her skin had become more scale like, less human. Her pupils more like slits and an unearthly amber._

_"I think you know that my power outweighs your own and that to become an enemy of my house would destroy you."_

_Sala said nothing, the silence confirming the words._

_"Perhaps, it is sentiment."_

_"You have been many things through the centuries, Sabera, but sentimental is not one."_

_The weight of the name smelled of sulfur and spice, hot as coals. Even in her dream, the whisper of Ren's words mouthing it felt special and dear. Sala shivered, but with disgust rather than contentment. Something in her though had become less guarded and more open, despite herself._

_"Do not trivel with me, Dubhri."_

_Another heavy name, thick with the smell of black wet earth and something tangy and metallic, like blood._

_"I know you as you know me, let us not pretend there can ever be a world where we are not upon equal footing."_

_"Do not dare name me, you haven't the right any longer."_

_"And you do?" Sala said, flames growing as she stood._

_"I did not come here to fight, Sala. I came here to speak of the girl and what will happen next."_

_Sala shook her head, looking both annoyed and shocked in him._

_"That you still think such a thing will be done is beyond me. No one would dare. She isn't even of age yet, have you seen her? Practically a fawnling still."_

_"There are those who will want the chance as much as She."_

_Sala's face darkened, "You know all too well of that, don't you?"_

_Ren snarled, face going feral, "He would have died all the same, Sala! Why you continue to blame me for what was inevitable, as if I /enjoyed/ doing it. I did what I did out of love, a love you could never have nor understand."_

_"I had twice as much love for Oisin as you and he for I. That you could not see it is a fault of your blindness."_

_Ren roared, transforming into a monstrous beast. The creature looked part lion, part wolf and bear. It was a vicious combination of the most furious animals one could think of, an apex predator huge and fearless._

_Sala however, did not look afraid, in fact she looked sad._

_"Was this his last sight too?"_

_Ren flinched, though the breath of his beast form was still ragged and filled with rage. From the beast's mouth came Ren's voice, though it was harsh and inhuman sounding._

_"He allowed it. I had his blessing."_

_"I am certain you like to believe that."_

_Ren shifted back, but even in his human form he looked again feral and unkempt. His eyes were still the great glowing color of the beast, blue and striking._

_"The festival is in an day. Be prepared, Sala, that is all I ask." he turned go go, "And don't do anything foolish."_

Willa's mind swarmed with images, the scene becoming like a rippled pool, disfiguring until she could make out nothing more. Her sleep was silent after that and dreamless, safe for one image that seared behind her eyes of a proud hart, sixteen points upon his head standing atop a hill and coated in sunlight.

" _Dad_?" Willa said, daring to speak, but the image did not respond, only grew darker and then with a leap, the hart ran towards her only to be stopped by the jaws of the great King of Beasts.


	7. Chapter 7

Willa woke with a shriek, the door to her room cracking and splintering before suddenly being forced open a moment later.

Heir stood, in their huge lion form, looking about the room with their fangs bared.

This welcome did nothing to relax her as fearfully Willa scrambled up to her feet, grabbing a pitcher from her side table and standing upon the mattress and staring down at her. Heir looked at her and then laughed, a wheezing growling sound that turned human as they morphed into a woman.

"Are you planning on tossing more ceramics at me, or--?" 

Willa did nothing for a moment and then slowly set the pitcher back down.

"I had a nightmare." she said, feeling embarrassed, "Lions and things."

She expected Heir to laugh, but they did not. The particulars of the dream were clouding in her mind and names she once remembered as sounding deeply important were hard to grasp. Salella? Duhrii? The more she tried to recall it seemed the muddy the dream got, like digging into the bottom of a lake in search for a lost trinket. 

"Whatever, it was just a dream."

Heir did not argue, only nodded.

"I will take you to Sala, she has a lot to teach you and only hours to do so."

Heir's seeming lack of interest troubled her.

* * *

When Willa came down, Heir trailing behind her in the shape of an elegant white wolf. Heir had led her to a part of the oriental palace she'd never seen before, but it still maintained the same mixture of jungle and man made walls. For the first time since Willa arrived she saw the servants that Sala kept on hand. They were all female, seven in total, and all had the same dark sand colored skin as Sala and emitted the same warmth. Their very presence brought heat.

 "Willa, did you sleep well?"

 For some reason, she felt Sala's eyes were more knowing than inquisitive.

 "It was-- I was fine."

 Sala turned her attention back to the garments the girls displayed for her. Trunks upon trunks were scattered about the room, open and bursting with lace and silks and all manner of fine clothes.

 "Looking the part is important-- come here." Sala said, beckoning Willa with a hand. Heir moved to a spot in the room where the sun broke through, laying down. Willa couldn't help but smile as Sala took her hand and gave her a slow twirl.

 "Fair. Freckled like a milkmaid, but twice as lovely." Sala said, looking her over with a critical but kind eye. She gently ran her fingers through Willa's hair, the blonde strands so soft and silky now after only a few days of eating the fae food.

 "How do you feel, my dear?" she said, voice smooth, "Physically."

 Willa could not help but answer honestly, "I feel amazing. I've never /not/ felt sick before. Stomach pains, breathing pains, headaches...."

 Sala nodded, looking a bit sad for a moment before she took Willa's arm and tucked it into her own, pulling her close.

 "Such lovely hazel eyes." Sala said, tipping up Willa's chin. She looked into Sala's own amber irises and for a moment swore she could see the fire flickering in them. Then again, most likely, she probably could. For a moment Will could almost feel something in Sala's touch, something aching and far away, but before Willa could dive deeper, Sala took her hand from her face and beaming turned her towards her maids.

 "Now then! The fae court is like any royal court. Perception and image are vital and making sure to maintain an air of neutrality is key."

 Sala tugged a long piece of green silk, holding it to Willa's hand with a critical eye before dropping it and claiming another with a more golden undertone.

 "If you are to remain, even for a short while, it helps to make no enemies if you haven't the time to make allies."

 "Why would I make any in one night?" 

 "Fae are... volatile folk. I am no exception. Even the smallest slight could cause problems for you when you return, weakened to the human realm. It is my hope, that instead you will charm them into making that return easier."

 Willa nodded, somewhat understanding.

 "So you're trying to get me something from them?"

 "Favor." Sala said, satisfied with a piece of silk that reminded Willa of the sun coming through spring green leaves.

 "Favors, my dear, are more valuable than gold here. Priceless and generally more binding in our culture than anything in the human realm, despite their frivolous and non-committal sounding name."

 Sala had begun picking through fabrics of smokey grey and red, gradienting down the material in a way that made it look like a smouldering volcano.

 "Shall we match?" Sala asked, giggling. Willa felt something in her chest break open.

 "Why are you doing this all for me?"

 Sala's face fell a little, "Doing what?"

 "From what I can tell and-- and maybe I'm wrong... but it seems like you knew that if I ended up with Ren, I'd never go home."

 Sala ran the fabric over her hands, listening but not looking at Willa.

 "So you got to me first. Though I don't understand how you convinced Heir--" Willa turned towards the white wolf only to find them gone. Unphased, she continued, "--to disobey their father. And that alone sounds.... crazy, given my impression."

 Willa turned back to Sala.

 "So why?"

 "Your father was my friend."

 "I think there is more to it than that."

 Sala looked up at the maids and nodded to them gently. The girls set down the fabrics and shoes and left them.

 "Willa... there were few people who knew of your existence. Your father knew he was running out of time, so he tasked the King of Beasts with your protection. He was the High Lord elect then as well."

 "So that was true."

 "Yes. But I also made Oisin promises. I promised you would not be brought here, unless it was your wish and that I was to help you escape if needed at the cost of my own life."

 Willa felt her face go cold.

 "Escape?"

 "Leave. Exit the Sidhe. Like you have already decided. He could not get Ren to make such promises as Ren believed you belonged in his keeping. Leaving you in the mortal realm to him was paramount to killing you."

 Sala laughed, the sound touched with an irony she did not share.

 "As for Heir, they did discover you, that is true. They planned to tell their father, but as you have probably noticed, Heir has taken me to confidence. Heir asked my advice before acting."

 Willa looked around again, trying to find head or tail of the white wolf. When she did not spot it she asked quietly,

 "Are you Heir’s mother?"

 Sala looked startled, then suddenly she laughed.

 "Oh goodness, no. I merely happen to be one of the only people willing to ignore their father's wish they be a good little “son”. This has endeared me to them. I'm more... like an eccentric aunt."

 "An eccentric aunt who once was my father's lover? Dreadful." Heir's voice raised up, appearing from beneath a bunch of silk in the form of a white stoat. A beautiful string of emeralds was wrapped around their small body. Heir brought them to Sala for what Willa presumed was for her.

 "Psh." Sala said, shooing the stoat away. Heir instead bolted, climbing up Willa's clothes to perch around her shoulders. Willa gave Heir a gentle pat, smiling genuinely for the first time it felt in days.

 "You are right though, Willa." Sala said, reaching into a nearby trunk and producing a fine silver mask, weaved of lace. She held it up over Willa's eyes.

 "I have and will continue to take great pains for your happiness, of that you can be assured."

 Willa felt suddenly bashful under Sala's gaze, Heir nudging their small stoat head under Willa’s chin as if they too were volunteering.

 "Now then. Let's see if we can make some magic happen with these fabrics."

 The maids returned and began the business of pinning and shaping the silks and lace. The dress would fasten around Willa's neck with a golden band and a bodice, wrapped around her middle and over her hips. The bodice was designed in golden patterns almost like feathers. Sala's dress was similar, smokey grey cascading down into red and tucked into a silver metal bodice that looked almost like armor. The movement of both dresses was liquid, so fine that you could see Willa's legs beneath the light green fabric.

 Never had she owned something so lovely. 

 "Like sunshine in a forest. Perfect." Sala said, pleased.

 "Now. When we go to the party the event will be divided up into several major parts. First, dinner. Next, gifts. Those who brought you gifts will line up to present them to you. Third and finally, more food, wine and most importantly dancing. You will be expected to dance with just about everyone. Do you know how?"

 Willa swallowed.

 "I thought not. Heir? If you'd please."

 Heir had gone to settle back within the fabrics as they were pinned and measured, now taking form once more as a girl.

 Heir came to stand in front of Willa.

 "You'll be expected to follow, in most instances." Sala said, Willa was unsurprised, "You'll place your left arm on their upper arm-- yes like that. And your other hand will be in theirs."

 Heir had already taken her hand in their own, gently holding the ends of her fingers in a light grip. Heir put their hand on Willa's ribs and the girl instinctively sucked in a breath.

 The instruction was mostly simple, the steps not overly complicated and something in Willa felt again the familiarity of the movements, as if she had made them before but-- not quite. Sala hummed a slow rhythm, watching the pair with bright eyes. Willa finally took a moment to dislodge her own eyes from where they were fixed upon her feet and look into Heir's. Heir was watching her, a smile of their own just a faint ghost upon their lips.

 Willa felt she was at the butt of some private joke so quietly she whispered, "What?"

 Heir only smiled more.

 "It's just... you're so much like a human." but the way Heir's eyes glittered made Willa realize this was no insult, just an amused observation.

 "The court fae are going to love it," Heir continued, "A human manner in a fae shape."

 Willa made a face, pinching Heir's arm a little as a silent punishment.

 "The Seelie perhaps, the Unseelie more so." Sala said, a note of caution in her voice as she broke over their muttered conversation. Their dance came to a halt.

 "There are two main courts. Not all fae are members of the court itself, but most have an alignment."

Sala came forward, replacing them in a new position. Standing side to side, with palms of either hand just barely touching. She directed them to turn, pause, switch arms and turn again. Willa noticed the humming continued though Sala was speaking, but she could not discern where it came from.

"The Seelie court is what the humans would consider "good" and the Unseelie "bad", though those definitions are hardly universal. Even a Seelie fae can act in their best interest, even an Unseelie can be kind. Absolutes are as non-existent here as they are in the human realm, but they try to pretend it is not so."

 Heir was so graceful, movements fluid. Willa half listened to Sala and half watched, enraptured as Heir took over leading her through different paces.

 "Ren, the King of Beasts, is the High Lord of the Seelie court. Heir is next in line to receive the title King of Beasts, but has not yet become of age to pick a court officially. Obviously they will select Seelie.I myself am currently not welcome at court, but I am aligned to the Seelie."

 Willa nodded, "Like an English and a French court."

 Sala sighed, but seemed to accept that as agreeable.

 "I suppose there are worse comparisons. We are sister courts, born of the same blood, but our values are different and we do try to overthrow the other once and awhile, so that might be more of an apt comparison than I like to say."

 "But they’re at peace now?"

 "Yes, because we are allied under a common threat."

 Willa looked at Sala anxiously.

 "Nothing for you to worry over child. One of the Unseelie court feuds constantly with another foe. We are safe and far removed from their squabble, though some have become so foolish as to become embroiled in her politics."

 Heir gave Sala a dark look. She returned it, unabashed.

 "Yes, Heir. Your father is foolish, but so far he has not been deathly foolish. In any case, both courts will be present at the event. Mind your P's and Q's around anyone who looks a bit more on the darker muted scale of the color spectrum-- or rather just mind them overall.”

 The dance instruction went on for a bit longer and then Sala called back in the girls to take some quick measurements on Willa to tailor her dress a bit more. After all the fuss had quieted down, Heir had fallen asleep in a pile of silks, curled up in her stoat form once again.

 When the girls left, taking the cloth with them, Sala came to Willa, close and in a hushed voice,

 “There is something I wish to discuss on a final note. Come with me.”

 She led Willa from the room, making sure not to disturb Heir into rousing. When they came into the hall, she took the girls arm and led her to the open balcony where Willa had yelled at the birds her first day.

 “... you and Heir seem to be getting along.” Sala said.

 “Er-- I guess.”

 “Willa, there are those who think that fostering a close relationship between you two would be immensely valuable.”

 Willa wasn’t sure what she was getting at.

 “Ren most likely is manipulating Heir, though Heir may not realize it. He has given Heir more leeway than usual. It use to be he forbade them staying here, but now he actively encourages it.” Sala sighed, “I just felt I should… caution you. From becoming too attached.”

 “Heir hasn’t done anything bad to me.” Willa said, “I don’t think they would.”

 “No. But….truly, I adore them. Heir is good and true hearted and loyal.... but that loyalty troubles me. I fear Heir’s father's influence. I fear their choices are not always of their own, even if Heir thinks they are.”

 Sala looked out over the balcony at some distant point.

 “Are you saying I shouldn’t be friendly with them?”

 “I’m saying… be cautious. Allegiances are funny things and Heir owes that to her father before all others. Heir believes this. Ren believes this. Heir may inadvertently make claims to loyalty and trust they can not keep.”

 Willa wasn’t sure what this all meant.

“So when you say a “close relationship” you mean like sex and babies?”

“Crude. But yes.”

 Willa made a face. It was not as if Heir was unattractive, quite the opposite. Her male and female forms were both beautiful.

 “Well, they are going to be disappointed.”

 “I think so too. Not that I think Heir isn’t very fond of you, but it is a different fondness.”

 “You guys don't waste any time do you?” Willa said, averting her eyes as if looking away would keep Sala from seeing her expression.

 “On the contrary. Time is the one thing we all have in abundance.”


End file.
